


Wouldn’t Kill You

by kbecks87



Category: Dawson's Creek
Genre: Canon Compliant, Complete, F/M, Gen, PJO, Pacey and Joey, Summer Of True Love, jacey., smut with plot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-07
Updated: 2021-03-08
Packaged: 2021-03-12 21:14:18
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 12,120
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29267064
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kbecks87/pseuds/kbecks87
Summary: Set between season three and season four.Cannon compliant.A series of firsts for Joey and Pacey during the summer they sail together on the True Love.Now complete.
Relationships: Joey Potter/Pacey Witter
Comments: 2
Kudos: 32





	1. First Port

They pull into the first port less than 48 hours after leaving Capeside, in Rhode Island. It’s days before Pacey was planning to hit the first port of his trip, she knows, even if he doesn’t say it. She smiles, kisses his cheek, “Thanks, Pace”.

He grins, “Self-preservation, Potter. You are developing an aroma.” She hits his arm with a balled-up fist and he chuckles, grabbing her fist and using it to pull her in so he can wrap his arm around her waist. He kisses her forehead, the tip of her nose, then her lips in quick succession, smiling when she laughs. 

They have docked in a town that is so much like Capeside that Joey half expects to find that Pacey woke up in the middle of the night and turned the boat around, and they were home. “Erie isn’t it?” he asks, stepping onto the dock and extending his hand out to help her follow. She hums in question, “how all these towns are exactly the same.”

“I guess” she says as he pulls her under his arm and they start to walk. She’s never been out of Massachusetts, for all her talk about wanting to get out of Capeside, she really doesn’t have much to compare it to.

“You’ll see” he promises, pressing an easy kiss to the side of her head. And she’s excited about that. This is her first real experience with the world beyond the small town she grew up in. The idea of getting to see all these new things with Pacey has her running a few paces to get in front of him and then turning abruptly so they are facing each other, the tips of their shoes touching. She smiles when he looks at her like she is crazy and then presses a kiss to his lips, already half-formed into a smirk.

“I love you, Pacey” she says as they lean back and she smiles when his cheeks pink a little at the words and he looks down, smiling self-deprecating and a little shocked she’s saying it. “I do, Pacey, I love you. And I am so excited for this summer”.

He brings one hand up to cup her cheek, “I love you too, Joey,” he breaths out a long breath, “God, I love you.”. he kisses her once, runs his hands over her arms, touches her hips, sighs softly, shakes his head a little, and takes a half step back. He takes her hand, pulling it up to kiss the back of it and then uses it to pull her forward, back to the town.

-

She picks up a toiletry set and a few outfits at one store and a swim suite at another, then goes to a convenience store and picks up a phone card. There is a row of pay phones in front of the store, so she calls Bessie there, just to let her know that she is okay since she doesn’t know when they will hit the next port. When she hangs up, she walks back in the direction of the boat – Pacey is picking up groceries and is going to meet her back there.

She makes her way below deck and empties her new stuff on the bottom hammock, removing tags and folding as she goes. She lines her new stuff on the shelf, next to Paceys, and smiles softly at their stuff, all lined up together and then shakes her head at her own silly sentimentality.

“Hey, Jo, I picked up -” he stops when he finds her in shorts, her swim top laid out on the hammock, waiting for her to pick it up. He spins around so his back is to her, “sorry, I was…sorry” he lets out an awkward chuckle.

She’d frozen when Pacey came down, blush coming over her, “Well, I’m just gonna” he points above deck and Joey clears her throat.

“Wait” she whispers and he freezes, half way out of the opening that would take him above deck, but he doesn’t turn around. She blows out a deep, shuddering, breath, trying to gather her courage. “You know,” she starts, tripping over her words a little. She clears her throat, “you know, if we’re going to live on this boat all summer, this kind of thing is bound to happen” she fidgets a little, twisting her hands in front of herself. She closes her eyes, tucks her hair behind her ears, and then crosses to Pacey.

He flinches a little when her hand lands on his shoulder, clearly not having expected it. She runs her hand down his arm to take his hand and pulls him around to face her. When he turns to find her, still topless, he pulls in a sharp intake of breath.

“Jo, you don’t have to -” she cuts him off with a kiss. He melts into it, his arms coming around so his fingertips can skim the bare skin on her back., she shivers and pushes closer to him. Her hands come between them to find the buttons of his shirt; her fingers shake as she slips the first button through the slip in the fabric. He smiles, worried, and brings his hand up to takes hers, folding his fingers around hers and pulling her hand up so he can press a soft kiss to her knuckles.

She smiles, small and nervous, then swallows, “I’m nervous, Pace. I mean, you know that I don’t have much experience. And, I’ll probably want to move slower than you’d like…but I do want to move.” She says it in more of a rush that she wouldn’t have preferred. She wishes that she could project some amount of confidence.

“Nothing is happening that you don’t want to, Jo.” He presses another kiss to her knuckles, “I only want to move as fast as you do – there is no pressure here.”. She smiles. She doesn’t feel confident, per say, but she does feel safe, and she thinks that might be better. She pulls her hand from his and reaches out, slow, to undo the buttons of his shirt, holding eye contact with him from under her eyelashes. When she reaches the last one and slips the shirt off his shoulders, he leans in to kiss her.

The press of their chests, skin to skin, has Joey pressing closer to him, wrapping her arms around his broad shoulders and letting her hands slide across his back. He trails kisses down her neck and she tilts her head back to give him better access. He skims his fingertips, slowly, from her waist to her ribcage, and up her side, letting his fingers splay against her, just under her breasts. He lingers there, making his intent clear and giving her time to rebuff. Instead, she leans into the touch and hope he understands without her having to say.

And, like usual, he must, because slowly, painfully slowly – delightfully slowly – he trails his fingertips over her breast. The flat of his fingernail catches on her nipple and she jerks a little in his arms, the sensation overwhelming. He chuckles, light and low, and an embarrassed flush color her skin, “don’t make fun of me” she mumbles.

He blinks a few times before his eyes find hers, dark – his pupils blown wide. “I’m not, Jo” he whispers, so earnest that she can’t not believe him. He tucks her hair behind her ear, “I’m not” he repeats. He waits for her small smile before he leans in to kiss her again, flattening his palm against her breast and massaging it slowly. Her breath catches in the back of her throat and she’s glad for Pacey’s opposite hand, resting between her shoulder blades, grounding her.

Pacey’s lips trail from her mouth, to that spot behind her ear, to her neck, to her collar bone where he sucks a small bruise into her skin, then he presses his lips to the breast not currently in his hand. Her head lulls back and a sigh escapes her. But, then, he pulls her nipple between his lips and flicks it with his tongue and she can’t help the moan that escapes her. She’s sure that later, when she has her wits about her, she’ll be embarrassed about it.

She mumbles his name, not entirely sure what she wants, and he slides his hand from her breast around her to settle at the small of her back and pulls his mouth up to press a quick kiss to her lips. “Want to stop?” he asks, easy.

“Is that okay?” she hates that her voice sounds uneven and nervous.

He lets out an easy laugh and kisses her forehead before dunking down to press his forehead to hers, looking into her eyes. “Of _course,_ that’s okay, Jo”. He runs his hands along her arms, kisses her forehead again, and takes a step back. “I picked up dinner while I was out, meet me up top?”

She smiles, nods, “Thanks, Pace”. He smiles, dunks his head and waves her off before disappearing to the deck. She blows out a long breath, pulls on one of his t-shirts and follows.

“Didn’t you just buy new clothes, Potter?” he asks when he sees her and she shoves him lightly before settling in next to him, kissing his shoulder when he passes her a soda.


	2. First Key

The first Florida Key they dock at is Little Torch Key and they get there all most exactly three weeks after leaving Capeside. After Pacey moors the boat to the dock, he does a little bow and reaches his hand out to help her off the boat. She laughs a little and smacks her hand into his, stepping onto the dock next to him. He clears his throat dramatically, “Josephine Potter,” he extends his free hand out to gesture around them, “may I present to you, The Florida Keys.”

She rolls her eyes, but it’s all for show. She pulls his hand around her until his arm is slung around her shoulders and their joined hands hang from her shoulder loosely. “Well, I guess that’s it then. Keys seen. We can go home.”

“You know what? Honestly, I’m glad you said something. Because, really, I’m already a little bored.” He raises his eyebrows and then smiles, pressing a quick kiss to her temple. She can’t help the wide smile that breaks out across her face. There is a line of payphones at the end of the dock and Pacey points to it with their still joined hands, “Want to get our obligations out of the way?”  
  
“Sounds good”. When they get to the phones, Pacey goes to one like five down from the ones she picks up and he’s got a pen and a little notebook in his hand. It’s weird, but she doesn’t think too much about it, figuring that now that they are in the Keys, he has some kind of checklist he wants to complete. Or his dad had been on him and he wants to be ready. Bessie gives her a pretty through run down of things happening in Capeside and then makes her talk to Alexander who screams ‘Jo-Jo’ into the phone and follows it up with high-pitched nonsensical gibberish until Bessie laughs and takes the phone back.

She finishes before Pacey. So she goes to the railing on the dock and pulls herself up to sit on it, watching him with a softy smile. When he hangs up and turns to see her watching him, he smiles and goes to her, stepping between her legs and kissing her softly. When they part, he steps back and holds his hand out, she takes it and jumps down, letting him pull ger towards the town.

They walk around for a couple of hours, just exploring and taking note of the places with odd jobs posted they might take before moving on to the next Key. “You hungry?” Joey asks. She has no idea what time it is, but she hasn’t eaten since the few-days-past-its-expiration-date bagel she found right before they docked.

“Perpetually” he answers with a grin, “but, you should hold on to that impulse, because, Joey Potter,” he jogs a few paces so he can stop in front of her, “I’m hoping to take you on a date tonight.”

“A date?”

He makes a face at her incredulous tone, “Yes, a date” she laughs and he takes both her hands, swinging them out wide before dropping one and using the other to spin her into him. “It may have escaped your attention,” his tone slips into conspiratorial, low and right next to her ear, “but, I have yet to take you on a proper date, Ms. Josephine Potter.”

“Well,” she drags the word out, watching him from the corner of her eye. She smiles at how he looks a little nervous, as if there is any possibility that she would sail away with him for three months but bulk at the idea of a date, “I’d hate to be improper.”

He smiles, kisses her temple, checks his watch. “That’s what I thought, Potter…that’s what I thought.”

-

When they were in North Carolina a few days she’d picked up a dark blue dress at an arts festival that had shut down a city block. She looked at it on her way to and from the restaurant that she was working at for a few days doing inventory before they moved to their new location, lamenting that it was far too fancy to wear on the boat and she didn’t want to spend the money and then never wear it. In then end, it was still there on the last day of the festival and it had been marked down to half-price so she bought it and told herself she’d find a place to wear it. She’s glad she did now, as she pulls it on and adjusts her hair in the small mirror in the cabin of the boat.

When she comes up to the deck, Pacey is sitting on the edge of the boat, drinking a bottle of water. “You’re back” he nods a little – he’d disappeared for about an hour earlier, saying something about checking into a job. He stands and turns to face her; he’s wearing dark jeans and a button-down shirt – by far the most formal either one of them has looked since leaving. “So fancy” she sing-songs, teasing, but she hopes he can hear the sincerity in it, the compliment.

He quirks a smile, crossing over to her. He touches her hips then runs his hands over her shoulders, “You’re beautiful, Jo”. She dunks her head a little to hide her blush.

She smiles, her hands going to frame his cheeks as she pushes forward to kiss him. As they pull back, she runs her hands through his newly short hair. Still getting used to the sensation. He laughs a little, his hands snaking around her waist. “Alright” he blows out a long breath, kisses her forehead, “ready?”. She nods and he nods back, taking her hand with one of his.

-

They’ve eaten most of their meals on the boat since leaving Capeside and when they have eaten in towns they’ve eaten at places that reminded Joey at of Ice house. Which was just fine be her – as much as she enjoyed watching Pacey catch and cook their dinner, the occasional escape from sea food was welcome. This place is a step up from the Ice House copy-cats, but isn’t so fancy that she feels out of place. “How did you find this place?” she asks, taking a sip of water.

He smiles, shrugs, tilts his water glass, but then after a beat he lets the bravado drop, “I wanted you to have a good first night at our unofficial destination, so I picked up some guide books while we were in North Carolina and a bunch recommended this place.”

It occurs to her, for the first time, that he thinks she isn’t pleased with the evening. She reaches her hand across the table until he takes it, threading his fingers through hers and she smiles, “Pace, it’s perfect”. The way he breathes out a relieved smile makes her stomach flip-flop. “You didn’t have to go to any trouble though, the whole trip so far…Pacey, this has been the best summer of my life.”

His face breaks into a grin and he pulls her hand up to press a kiss to her knuckles, “Me too, Jo, me too.”

-

When they leave the restaurant, Joey walks towards the path that will take them back to the marina and Pacey reaches out and grabs her hand, spinning her in a circle that ends with his arm wrapped around her and them walking in the opposite direction, “Not so fast, Potter.”

She narrows her eyes at him, “Where are we going?”

“You’ll see.”

-

The little Inn he pulls them to a stop in front of is small and charming. The pathway to the door is lined with string lights and the building itself sits right on the water. She cocks her head at him, confused.

His smile is soft and sweet and she can’t help but kiss him. “The way I see it, we could use a night of sleeping on solid ground, and a shower with actual water pressure -” a laugh bubbles out of her and he smiles – the water pressure-less showers at marina facilities along the way have been her only complaint on the trip so far and _of course_ he noticed. He kisses her forehead, grins, and then, much quieter, “I mean, it’s only just the one night, but I thought it’d be nice -”

She cuts him off with a kiss. “You didn’t have to do this, Pace” she says quietly, glancing behind him guiltily; it is adorable, and adorable is always expensive.

He leans towards her and his lips brush the crown of her head when he says “I wanted to, Jo” and she smiles, burrowing closer to him.

-

When they open the door to the room, Pacey immediately jumps onto the bed, sprawling out like a starfish. Joey laughs and he props himself up on his elbows, watching her as she looks around the room; it’s not elaborate, there is a king bed in the middle, a door to a bathroom on one side and a small sitting area in front of a window on the other. She goes and looks out the window – the beach lapping at the shore under a darkening sky greet her and she smiles. As she leans on one of the chairs for balance to kick her shoes off, she notices the duffle bag on the sofa and recognizes it as Pacey’s. She glances back at him before she unzips it to see that he has packed them an overnight bag – changes of clothes and the necessary toiletries.

She realizes that when he disappeared before dinner he must have been here – checking in and leaving the bag and how much planning he put into this night – giving her something special inside the amazing summer he is already giving her hits her hard and she feels a stunned smile break across her features. 

She goes to Pacey, sitting on the bed so her knees are by his hips and grabs his face between her hands, “I love you”

His smile is sheepish, “I love you too, Joey” he mummers, low, right before she kisses him.

-

When she comes out of the bathroom, hair still damp, he’s leaning against the headboard of the bed in shorts and a sleeveless grey shirt, a newspaper balanced on his thigh and a pen in one hand, he circles something every so often – presumably ‘help wanted’ adverts. He smiles when he sees her, folding the newspaper and tossing it and the pen to the bedside table. She cuddles in next to him and pulls him down so she can kiss him.

They do have a full-sized air mattress and a nook to put it in within in the cabin of the True Love – it is what Pacey was planning to use before she tagged along on the trip. They do set it up sometimes, when they have the time or the floor space or when one of them is feeling particularly snuggly. But, it’s a rarity – the hammocks being so much more practical with both of them on board. Maybe that is why she lets this make out session get so far before she’s even registered it. Well, not _let_ it get so far, because she initiates the kiss and she tugs on Pacey’s arm until his body covers hers; one of his elbows digs into the mattress above her head, that hand idle in her hair as that arm braces all his weight, while his other hand fans her collar bone. He has one leg between hers, his knee digging in to the mattress to help hold his weight off of her. Her hands roam his upper body – his broad shoulders, his back, slipping under the fabric of his shirt to run across his stomach.

She doesn’t even realize that her hips have been canting up against his leg, her body searching for friction, until he drops a hand to her hip, stilling the movement and his face buries in her neck, “Jo” he breaths out, voice wrecked.

It takes her a second to understand, to come back to herself, but when she does, her whole-body freezes and she is over come with embarrassment. If she hadn’t already been flushed with arousal, she is sure she’d be turning red now. “Oh my god, I am _so_ sorry” she closes her eyes.

Pacey kisses her collarbone, his thumb rubbing circles on against her hip, “Don’t apologize, Jo” his voice is quiet and rough. He pulls his face form her neck and kisses her cheek softly, right below her eye, “Joey” he prompts, waiting for her to open her eyes. When she does, she finds his pupils blown wide, but somehow, he still looks at her with nothing but love and patience. “There is nothing to be sorry for” he mummers.

She brings her hand up to touch his cheek and pulls in a long breath then kisses him quickly. “I love you, Pace, and I want you, I just…” she trails off. She feels stupid – she’s built sex up so much in her mind that she’s too afraid to have it and she’s not even sure she could articulate why. Her thoughts start to race until she feels his lips press against her forehead and she smiles, despite herself.

“Jo, we’re not ready until you’re ready. There is no pressure here.”

“I just… I want to be ready”

He’s quiet for a long moment, “Sex doesn’t have to be all-or-nothing” he swallows, kisses her forehead, “We could -”

“Yes” Joey cuts him off. “I meant what I said, Pace. I want to be ready and I trust you.” She presses a kiss to the corner of his jaw. “whatever you were going to say…yes, I want…yes”

“If you want to stop, -”

“I know” she promises and cups his cheek with her hand, letting his eyes search hers. He leans in and kisses her before his lips trail to the column of her throat, then that spot behind her ear that has her melting against the mattress. His hand flexes against her hip and then slowly, so slowly, he trails his finger tips along the outside of her thigh. Her eyes drift closed as his lips come back to hers. His finger tips glide to her inner thigh, tracing feather-light patterns against sensitive skin. He runs the flat of his nails from her inner knee up to the line of her sleep shorts and she lets out a moan that she thinks she should be embarrassed by, and she would be, if he didn’t seem to like it so much. “This okay?” he asks, voice quiet and gravely, as he trails kisses down her throat.

“Yes, I…yes” her voice hitches. She’s maybe more over-stimulated than she’s ever been, but she feels amazing, her head lulling on the pillow as Pacey’s fingers slip under her shorts to trace the outline of her underwear as his mouth sucks a bruise into her collarbone.

One of her hands goes to the back of his head, his short hair sending pin-pricks of sensation through her. Her other hand snakes over her head to find Pacey’s hand- his elbow supporting his weight over her. She slips her hand into his and he threads their fingers together, their arms forming a semi-circle over her.

His lips come back to hers before he kisses her cheek softly, nuzzling against her neck. His fingers leave the outline of her underwear to run feather-light over the damp spot over her core. She pulls in a sharp breath, her hips jerking without any input from her brain, the scent of her arousal flooding the room. He lets out a low groan and buries his face against her shoulder, mouthing at the skin there. “God, Jo…” he breathes out and her hand slips from the back of his head to the back of his neck, holding him to her.

“Pace…” she breathes out, right against his ear and he stops everything, shifting his weight a little so he can move off of her, but she tightens her hand on the back of his neck “No…I…” and he stills again, his fingers squeeze hers above her head, reassuring, she lets out a self-conscious breath, “Please”

He holds eye contact with her for a long moment, then kisses her forehead. His lips brush the shell of her ear when he whispers “I’ve got you, Jo.” In a voice that makes her squirm.

His lips trail along her jaw until they find hers again and when his finger slips under the elastic of her underwear, she gasps into his mouth, but holds him against her, wanting him close. Above her, his thumb runs against the back of her hand, a gentle back-and-forth, his lips move against hers, and after a beat, her runs his middle finger along her slit, gathering wetness, before he presses it softly against her clit. Her breath hitches on a moan and she loses the ability to focus or think coherently. The rhythm of the kiss stutters then stops as she becomes too overwhelmed to keep it going and Pacey leans his forehead against hers; they’re both panting, passing the same air back and forth.

No one has ever touched her like this, not even close, not even herself, and she wonders if it always feels this good. His finger leaves her clit to trace the outline of her cunt and a soft displeased sound leaves her without her consent. Pacey breathes out a laugh and when she forces her eyes open, she finds him looking down at her, eyes heavy lidded, with awe and she has to kiss him, just once, but she tries to pour all her love into it. When she presses her forehead back to his and breathes out his name, he slides his middle finger into her. Her hips buck and a strangled sound escapes from the back of her throat, her back arches, her body pushing closer to his.

He adds his index finger to his middle finger, both of them pumping in-and-out of her and her hand drops from the back of his neck to his shoulder, looking for purchase and when he crooks his fingers inside of her perfectly so that they scrape inside of her on each thrust her nails dig into the skin of his shoulder without her realizing it. She can feel the sensation that has be building inside of her crashing against her, “Pace, I…” but she can’t find the words, doesn’t know how to say what she needs, doesn’t know what she needs.

He kisses her, just the quick press of both his lips around her bottom one, then stays close enough his lips brush hers when he repeats, “I’ve got you, Jo” his voice thick, but somehow also focused. The heal of his hand comes down to rub against her clit, providing friction as his fingers work inside of her. She loses track of what happens after that – she hears a sharp moan escape her and she knows her hips are moving in time with his fingers even though she doesn’t know how, and then all the sudden, the sensation that has been building inside of her crashes like a wave and she gasps, murmuring Pacey’s name over and over like a chant and pulling him closer so she can push her face into his neck.

As she comes down from the high, she realizes that Pacey’s fingers are still moving inside of her, slow drawn-out movements as her body twitches from aftershocks and he draws out her pleasure as much as he can. She lets her head fall back against the mattress and when she is finally able to focus, it is on Pacey’s soft smile. He kisses the tip of her nose as he withdraws his fingers from inside of her, she whimpers softly at the loss as he straightens her underwear and then her shorts, wiping his hand on the sheets before it slides under her shirt to rest on her waist.

“Pace, I….” she can’t find the words, so she pulls on his shoulder until he is close enough for her to kiss him. She pushes closer to him and her hips grazes his erection and he groans against her mouth. She surges up to deepen the kiss and slides her hand from his shoulder to his chest, pressing against him until he is lying next to her on the bed, instead of over her. He lets himself be maneuvered, deferring to her.

She untangles her fingers from his then pushes her elbow into the mattress so she can hover over him, inverting their position from earlier. Her hair falls around their faces like a curtain and he pushes both his hands into her hair, fisting one hand at the nape of her neck, holding her hair there, just tight enough for her to feel it, while his other hand glides over her shoulders and settles with his knuckles running down her spine.

Her hand splays against his stomach while she lets the feeling of his lips on hers embolden her. After a long beat, she skims her hand down to run, feather-light, over his straining dick. It’s his turn for his hips to jump unexpectedly, and it makes her feel powerful, that she can do that. “Jo,” the surprise in his voice is evident, “Joey, you don’t have to, I wasn’t -” she cuts him off with a kiss that he returns hesitatingly.

“I want to” she tries to sound sexy, but she doesn’t have that _thing_ that girls like Eve or even Jen have – that easy confidence or the ability to be sure that guys want them. She’s always just been ‘little Joey Potter’ and she’s not sure how to feel like anything else. “I,” she swallows, not quite meeting his eyes, “I want to be able to make you feel how I just felt.” She feels silly – Pacey has experience and she’s not sure that a sloppy hand job is something he even wants. She pulls in a deep breath and lets her eyes find his and she half-smiles when she finds his gaze filled with awe and love and none of the mockery that the most self-conscious parts of her worried she’d find. “I want to do able the things I’ve never done,” she whispers “but more than that, Pacey, I want to do them with you. Because I love you and I trust you and I…” she kisses him softly, “Please, Pace” she mummers against his lips.

He pushes her hair back from her face and blows out a long breath, “I just don’t want you to feel like you have to do anything and I don’t want you to regret anything.” He says it quietly, not quiet meeting her eyes, self-deprecating, like he thinks he is forcing her.

She puts her hand on his cheek, forcing his eyes to hers, “Never, Pace. I could never regret anything with you.” His mouth pulls into a thin line, like he is going to argue, “I love you so much, Pacey, you are so good to me…you…you’re everything.” She kisses his again, slow and sweet for a long moment, until she deepens it, licking into his mouth.

His hand tightens in her hair while his other hand lands on the small of her back, fingers slipping under the fabric of her clothes to rest against her skin. Her hand skims from his cheek to his chest and then his stomach. She lets herself get lost in the kiss, in the feeling of him under her, in the low groan he lets out when she presses closer to him.

She lets her hand trail down to trace the outline of his dick and his hand tightens in her hair, his lips stuttering against hers. It reassures her that he wants her, even if this is all she’s ready for, and it emboldens her. She brings her hand back up so she can slide it under the elastic of his shorts. For a moment, she just lets her fingers play over the short hairs she finds there. He gasps against her mouth and she pulls back just enough to mummer, “tell me if I do it wrong?”

“I don’t think that’s possible, Jo.” He answers just before her hand closes around his dick and he pulls in a sharp intake of breath. Her thumb swipes over the tip of his dick, tracing the slit there and he lets out a strangled sound and she smiles. Her hand slides down to start a steady up-and-down motion on his dick and his head falls back against the mattress with a thump and she kisses the underside of his jaw.

She hovers over him, watching his face to gauge his reaction to every touch, trying to catalogue what he likes best based on his face and the sounds he makes. She starts to move her hand faster and twists her wrist at the base of his dick every so often – each time she does it, his dick jumps a little in her hand and he lets out a sound from the back of his throat that she wants to illicit as often as she can. “Shit, Jo” he mumbles, pulling her in to kiss her as he tries to keep his hips from jumping.

She nips as his bottom lip and then kisses the spot behind his ear. She swallows her nerves at the risk of sounding stupid and whispers “I’ve got you, Pace” against his ear.

“Fuck” he hisses as his face buries in her neck and his dick starts to spasm. He pulls her in close to him and she can feel the way he is mouthing her name soundlessly against the juncture of her neck over and over. “Fuck, Jo” he mumbles as he comes back to himself. “You’re incredible,” he says, pulling her back so he can look into her eyes, his hand going to her cheek, “incredible” she blushes and he pulls her to kiss her once, hard, before he reaches over to the bedside table and grabs the box of tissues there, dropping it on the bed.

She wipes off her hand and he cleans himself up then tosses the box back to the table and readjusts the pillows on the bed before lying down. He puts an arm around Joey’s shoulders, her still half leaning over him, “You okay, Jo?”

She smiles, cuddles into him, her head resting on his chest and her arm winding around his waist. She presses a kiss over his heart, “Incredible” she mumbles against his chest.


	3. First Holiday

Between July second and the third, they attend the Independence Day festivities in three small towns. Today is the actual holiday, and they are spending it in their unofficial base of operations for the summer – Key West. They go to the festival around three and spend the day wondering around – he buys her a funnel cake and they share it at picnic table in front of the band stage. 

A little before dark, they pick up a pizza at a small shop they found the week before and take it back with them to the boat. Pacey navigates the True Love out of the marina and into the water a mile or so off-shore, near the other boats, waiting for the fireworks to start. They’ve already brought the air mattress up and inflated it, so they bring up some pillows and blankets and settle on the mattress to eat.

It’s not long before music starts being played from the dock where the city will soon set off fireworks. Pacey winds his arm around her waist and pulls her closer to him and she laughs, surprised, and leans into him, holding her pizza slice up so she doesn’t get sauce on herself. He kisses her cheek and then wipes the spot with a napkin when grease is left behind.

Joey tosses her crust in the box and wipes her hands on the napkin he hands her just as the first firework is launched. Pacey finishes his slice and moves the pizza box to the floor so they can lay down. He pulls her into him, his arm under her head, she pushes up to kiss him just as a green firework explodes and they both laugh, settling in to watch.

When the fireworks are over, the other boats navigate back to the marina, but Pacey takes them further out to sea instead, dropping anchor when the town is just beautiful lights and the other boats are non-descript bobbing shapes on the water. With the boat settled for the night, he comes back to the mattress, dropping onto it dramatically and laughing quietly when a little air seeps out with a hiss.

He kisses her, his hands going up to support his weight on either side of her face, while her hands come up so her fingers hang off his jaw. He adjusts his weight so he’s laying next to her on his side, leaning over her as the kiss deepens, turning from sweet to something needy. He trails his fingers through her hair and over her cheek, along her collar bone and her body jerks when he runs his hand along her breast. After a moment, his fingers trail down her side and over her hip to her thigh. He pulls the fabric of her sundress up until it is bunched around her hips and he can slide his hand under it to run along her inner thigh, smiling when her legs fall open for him.

She’s wearing her swim suite under the dress, in lieu of underwear – a common occurrence this summer when a spontaneous quick swim is always a possibility, and he slips two fingers inside to trace the shape of her. She gasps out his name, her hips jerking against him and he chuckles as he kisses her, pulling his hand away from her. “Pace” she says, drawing his name out in an exaggerated whine.

He kisses the tip of her nose and then resettles his weight so that he is between her legs, his hips in the cradle of hers. He thrusts against her so that even through the layers of clothes between them she can feel his erection against her and she sighs softly, her eyes slipping closed and her head tilting back. He kisses the bottom of her chin and then down the column of her throat, stopping when he gets to her collarbone to suck a bruise into the soft skin. Her hands come up to the back of his head, her fingers scrambling for purchase in the short hair there. He mouths at her breasts through the fabric of her sundress, one hand massaging one while his mouth laves at the other until he switches. As he slides down her body, he slides her dress up so that he can kiss down her stomach, stopping to nip at her bellybutton before pressing a kiss directly above the line of her swim bottoms and resting his chin on her hip, twirling one of the tie-strings around his index finger and looking up at her, waiting for her unfocused eyes to find him.

“This okay?” he asks, voice thick, when she locks eye with him. She swallows, closing her eyes for a moment. He kisses the jut of her hip softly and when he opens her eyes his gaze is so full of love that she lets out a tiny gasp.

She nods, “Please, Pace” she mumbles, the needy feeling building in her again when the little huff of air he lets out ghosts over her center. He waits a beat, like he wants to be sure she is sure, and then presses a hot kiss over her center, above her swimsuit, that has her hips jerking towards him. He breathes out a delighted sound, right on the cusp of being a laugh and presses a series of hot, open-mouth kisses along her inner thigh, right against the line of her swim suite, until she is squirming against him and he drapes one arm over her hips to keep her still.

He pulls on the strings on one side of her swim suite bottoms and then the other, waiting a moment before pulling the front down to expose her to him. She blushes, embarrassed, while he looks at her; swollen and wet with anticipation. “Fuck, Jo” he finally breaths out. She is about to say something self-conscious when he licks a stripe against her cunt, ending at her clit, which he circles with his tongue and her half-formed words turn into a cry.

Her hand scrambles to find his hand against her hip, and he threads their fingers together when he feels her hand, his arm still across her hips. Her other hand twists in the sheets by her stomach. His lips close around her clit and he sucks gently and she gasps his name. He hums around her clit and her eyes slam shut, her head pressing back against the pillows and her back arching. He does it again and the hand she has tangled in the sheets comes up for a moment, clenching at air before it falls back onto the sheets, gripping hard enough that she can feel her own nails on her palm through the linen.

He sucks on her clit, flicking his tongue over it at the same time and as he increases suction, she lets out a strangled cry that fades into a chant of his name as her cunt clenches around nothing. He backs off her a little, changing to little kitten licks as she comes, to try to prolong it for her. He looks up at her, head tilted back, mouth soundlessly forming his name, eyes shut tight, and he can’t help but be a little proud that he is the one that can make her feel good like this.

As her face changes and he thinks the sensation might be becoming overwhelming for her, he moves his lips to her inner thigh. She blinks a few times and he kisses her hip lightly before resting his chin there to look up at her. She smiles shyly at him and his face breaks into a happy, relieved, grin. “Okay?’ he still feels like he needs to check.

She lets out a breathy little laugh that goes straight to his already hard dick. “So much better than that” she corrects, still a little breathy. He dunks his head, pleased, and presses an off-center kiss against her and grins when she squirms a little. “Pace,” she drags his name out in a whine, making grabby-hands at him.

He chuckles lightly, the sound muffled against her thigh, “One sec” teases, his lips brushing her over-sensitive skin.

She lets out a moan and he glances up at her, eyebrows raised in question, making sure it isn’t too much for her. “You don’t have to” she says it quietly, like she thinks he must hate to.

He lets out a sharp, surprised, bark of laughter, traces her entrance with his index finger, catching one of her hands in the air when she gasps and presses it against her own hip before covering it with his own, using it to help still the thrust of her hips against his mouth. “But I really, _really_ , want to” he mummers against her. She gasps out his name, the sound turning into a moan when he licks into her.

Her head lulls on the pillow, her eyes closed while she tries to remember to breath. He runs the flat of his tongue over the rough patch of skin inside of her and her free hand slides against the back of his head, the short hair there sending pin-pricks of sensation through her. The hand she has trapped against her hip flexes against his hand and he closes his fingers around hers. It’s sweet, how aware of her he is and she swallows against the flood of emotions she feels.

He pulls his mouth from her, but before she has time to register the loss, he slips two fingers into her and crooks them just right, setting a perfect rhythm and the tip of his tongue traces around her clit slowly. Her hips jerk against him involuntarily and she loses her breath in one shaky exhale. He tightens his hand on her hip and licks at her clit in long, slow strokes that have her mumbling his name like it’s the only thing she can remember. The attention on her clit while she feels full is so new to her, her brain is having trouble processing how good this feels.

She blinks a few times – trying and failing to force her eyes open – until she finally succeeds and when she looks down at Pacey, she’s surprised to find his heavy-lidded eyes looking up at her. His hand on her hip squeezes hers and her breath catches in her throat. He lets the flat of his teeth scrape lightly against her clit and even though she tries, she can’t keep her eyes open, her head falls back against the pillow, heavy, and her eyes flutter closed. He sucks her clit into his mouth, letting his lips roll over the bundle of nerves as his tongue laves at it and her head lulls from side to side, the feeling inside of her almost too much until it finally crescendos.

The orgasm is much more intense than her first, more intense than any she’s had, maybe, and it has her closing one hand around Pacey’s tightly while her other hand pulls at his shoulder. Her cunt clenches around his fingers, drawing them deeper, and she can feel him pressing soft kisses to her thighs even as they close in around his face with no input from her brain. It feels like it takes her forever to come back to herself, for the fog in her head to clear, for her to refocus on Pacey. “Pace” she whispers, tracing her fingers over his forehead. He smiles, almost sheepish, and she smiles back, love for him welling up inside her, “come here” she mummers. He kisses her hip as he pulls his fingers from her gently and she winces a little as he crawls back up her body.

She frames his face with her hands, his chin is shiny with the proof of her arousal and when she kisses him, she can taste herself. She pushes him softly, her hand in the middle of his chest, and he lets her, his weight dropping to the air mattress easily. She reaches her hand under the waist band of his shorts and grips him in her hand. He breaks the kiss them, his head pitching forward to burrow his face in the crook of her neck, “God, Joey. Fuck” he mumbles against her skin as she starts to move her hand.

He’s so keyed up that it hardly takes anything for him to get there, one hand fisting in Joey’s hair while the other holds her hip as he comes over her hand, his mouth moving in the shape of her name against the skin of her shoulder.

After he’s grabbed a napkin and cleaned them up, he pulls Joey to him and pulls the blanket up around them, smiling as he burrows in close to him. He presses a long kiss to her forehead, “I love you, Jo”

She smiles, blushes even though she isn’t sure why, “I love you too, Pace”

It’s quiet long enough that he thinks she has fallen asleep when she says “Hey, Pace” quiet and a little nervous. He hums in response, “I’m sorry that I didn’t…I mean I know you…I just…” she huffs at herself, annoyed with herself, and it takes him a minute to figure out that she is apologizing for now blowing him.

“Jo,” he pushes up to he’s leaning over her and touches her red cheek softly, “We’re not doing anything we don’t both wanna do, yeah?” he says gently.

“I mean, I just, you -”

“You don’t owe me anything, Joey, not ever” he cuts her off, “I’m not doing anything in the hope of reciprocity” he kisses her, just once, quick, “I _wanted_ to go down on you, Jo, not for any reason other than wanting to go down on you.” He smiles when she blushes.

She reaches up and touches her fingertips to his cheek bone, “that settles it, you’re perfect” she says, quiet. 

He lets out a surprised laugh, “Tonight was perfect” he counters, kissing her and laying back down next to her, “and you’re perfect” he mumbles against her forehead as they settle back in to go to sleep, curled together.


	4. First Return

“Yeah, sure, Pop” Joey hears Pacey say right before he slams the payphone back in the cradle and rubs his hand down his face. She winces slightly, she’d been on the phone with Bessie a few stations down and has no idea what his conversation with his father was like, but she can guess. Most weeks when he calls home, he gets his mother or his sister, Doug a few times, but his dad only twice before this but each time it’s left him quite and sullen in a way she couldn’t seem to pull him out of for hours. And now, they’re officially on their way home even if they aren’t even out of Florida yet, and she knows that is weighing on him.

“Hey” she whispers, her hands going to his stomach as she looks up at him, “What happened?” she asks as he drops his hand from his face and lets it settle on the small of her back.

He shakes his head a little, looking out of the water instead of at her, “Who says we have to go back, huh? I mean, what is waiting for us in Capeside, anyway?”

“Well,” she drags the word out, her arms winding around his waist, “School, for one, and our families, and the B&B you _made_ me and Bess open, and all our friends.”

He lets out a humorless laugh and steps back, out of her embrace, “That’s what’s in Capeside for _you_ , Jo, not me” he says it quietly, like the words might not even be meant for her.

“Pace,” she starts, worried, but he speaks before she can say anything else.

“Sorry,” he shakes his head a little, still sounding far away, “I think I just wanna walk a little. How about I run our errands,” he pulls the list from her hand, “and meet you back on the boat?”

She wants to say that she could walk with him, but she’s smart enough to know that what he means is that he wants to be alone. “Sure, Pace” he leans forward and kisses her, just the quick press of his lips to hers. Just before he walks away, she catches his hand and when he looks back at her quizzically, she half smiles, “I love you” she reminds him, just because she thinks he might need to hear it.

His face softens and he pulls her hand up to press a kiss to the back of her hand, “I love you too” he says, squeezing her hand gently, “I won’t be long” he promises before he walks away.

She walks through the shops congregated around the marina for about half an hour and buys a pretzel at a cart by the water, but then heads back to the boat, exploring not as fun on her own. She thinks, idly, that she should be sick of Pacey, that they should be sick of each other – they have spent all most all their time together for over two months and she can’t think of anyone that she wouldn’t be sick of by now, but instead, she’s glancing at her watch and wondering when he’ll be back, hoping that the walking helps him clear his head of whatever his father said.

She doesn’t know the details of his dynamic with his family, just that it’s bad and that it is the worst with his father. She’s tried to ask about it a few times, but he’s never wanted to talk about it past glib one-liners and she didn’t want to push it. She plays with her necklace, sea glass in the shape of a heart on a string Pacey got her on their last day in Key West. She’s thinking about how Pacey is kind and sweet, loyal and funny, how much he bends over backwards to take of people, how he makes her feel safe and warm even when it defies logic and reason. It breaks her heard that his family, they people that should know him best, love him best, can’t see those things in him.

She’s so lost in thought that she doesn’t realize that Pacey has boarded the boat until his fingertips skim along her shoulder as he calls her name. it sends a shiver through her that she tries to hide as she spins to face him. “Hey” he scratches at the back of his neck, “sorry, about earlier” he says, putting things away as he talks. “I don’t know why I let him get to me like that” he adds, more to himself than her.

She shrugs one shoulder, standing to help him put things away, “family is hard” is the only thing she can think to say, even though it sounds lame even in her own ears.

-

They go to dinner that night and after, Pavey decides to shower at the marina facility so when he steps into the cabin of the True Love he’s wearing shorts and carrying his shower caddy, running a towel over his still wet hair. She takes the caddy and towel and sets them on his hammock and pulls him toward her so she can kiss him. He laughs, surprised and delighted, against her lips until she deepens it and his arms come up to circle her body, pulling her closer.

She wants, so badly, to show him how much she loves him, not to tell him, but to show him. It’s taken her so long to see sex and physical intimacy for what it is – the ability to show the depth of her love for him when words don’t suffice – and it doesn’t mean that her fear, rational or otherwise, is gone, but she still feels like she has come so far. He twists his hand in her hair and she moans softly. Pacey backs her up until the back of her shoulders hits the wall and he crowds around her. She brings her hands up to run over his bare chest, her fingernail catching on his nipple and he groans against her mouth, his hips bucking against hers.

His lips trail down her throat while they catch their breath and he sucks gently at the spot behind her ear and her head falls back against the wall with a soft thud. He chuckles lightly against her skin, the vibration of it running through her body. He slides his hand into her hair to cup the back of her head and massage it gently, grinning when she rolls her eyes theatrically. He kisses the tip of her nose before his lips find hers again.

She steps forward, closer to him, creating a little space between her and the wall and braces her hands against his hips. She spins him so that his back is against the wall and she is leaning forward to kiss him again, before he can ask her what she is doing. She runs her hands up his chest and neck to rest on his cheeks for a moment, before running over his shoulders and down his arms, pulling his arms from around her body and holding his hands for a moment before breaking the kiss and taking a half step back. His eyebrows pull together in question and she presses a quick kiss to his lips before she pulls in a breath and kneels in front of him. “Jo,” he mummers, his hand tugging at her shoulder. She takes his hand and pulls it towards her so she can press a kiss to the back of his hand. He sighs softly, “Joey, you don’t have to.”

She nods a little and traces the outline of him through the thin material of his shorts and looks up at him from under her eyelashes when he chokes on his next breath. “I want to, Pace” she answers, quiet but sure. And she does, she wants to make him feel good the way he makes her feel good. Wants to show him her love for him. “Please” she adds when indecisiveness plays on his face.

“If you change your mind, or you want to stop -”

“I know, Pace” she cuts him off, grinning. She doesn’t question that he would never want her to do something that she felt unsure of. It is one of the reasons she feels so sure.

She reaches up and tugs on the waistband of his shorts, pulling them down. His dick is hard when it springs free of the garment and she can’t help the too-long moment she spends staring. She’s never seen him naked before – when they’ve fooled around it’s always been hands fumbling over clothes. She glances up at his face while he steps out of his shorts and she can see the vulnerability playing out across his features. Sex isn’t new to him the way it is to her, but it occurs to her that he is still standing into front of her naked for the first time, and that has to be difficult. She raises up on her knees and presses a kiss to the jut of his hips bone, smiling when his fingers splay through her hair.

She doesn’t know how to do this, how to start, so she lightly grasps him in one hand, her other hand on his thigh to keep her balance, her lips sliding over him as she takes him in her mouth as far as she can, her lips glide down his shaft until the head of his dick hits the back of her throat and she pulls back, licking her lips as he slides out of her mouth. He lets out a strangled breath and she glances up at him, cheeks flushed pink, “Tell me if I do something wrong?”

He has one hand in her hair, not forcing or guiding, just there, and he rubs his thumb over the back of her head when he shakes his head a little and mummers, “you’re perfect, Jo”. She scoffs a little, but then refocuses her attention, licking the head of dick like a lollipop, circling her tongue around it experimentally, a pleased hum escaping her when he groans. She starts to move the hand she has wrapped around him, not particularly hard or fast, just friction while she focuses on the head. “Fuck, Joey” he moans and the low thrum of his voice emboldens her.

She shortens the length of her strokes, her hand going from the base of his dick to about halfway up the shaft while her lips slide over him to meet her hand. She has to focus to keep the timing, her head bobbing in rhythm with her hand. Pacey’s free hand thumps, open palmed and hard, against the side of the shelf system next to them and he breaths out a curse. His heavy-lidded eyes are on her, pupils blow, while he tries to remember to breath. She speeds up both her hand and the bobbing of her head, increasing pressure on both.

She’s really just going off what she’s figured out he likes in a hand job and hoping she’s doing okay. When his hand tightens in her hair, she glances up at him, lips still stretched around his dick, “Fuck” he breathes out, swallowing hard, “Jo, I’m gonna come” she hums around him. His eyes slam closed and his head drops back against the wall, “Joey” he tries again, her name coming out as a low whine.

She releases him from her mouth and looks up at him. She looks up at him and he looks absolutely wrecked – she has never felt more powerful. “I heard you” she assures him and then, not waiting for an answer, pulls him back into her mouth. She hollows out her cheeks and lets the hand she has braced on his thigh slide up so her fingers graze his balls. She feels his dick spasm, warm liquid filling her mouth as he mumbles her name over and over again like a chant. She keeps going until he gently pulls her off and she rocks back on her heels as she swallows and looks up at him. He lets out a deep shaky breath and holds out his hand, she takes up and he pulls her up, dropping her hand once she is standing so he can frame her face with his hands, “God you’re incredible” he whispers, looking into her eyes. She blushes, smiles, “Incredible” he repeats before he kisses her.

After a moment, he reverses their position, pressing her against the wall once more before he breaks the kiss. He holds eye contact with her for a long moment before he kneels in front of her. She’s confused, even as he slides his hands up her legs and hooks his index fingers around the waist band of her underwear. He holds eye contact with her as he pulls them gently down and helps her keep her balance as she steps out of them. He lifts one of her legs, forcing her knee to bend, and kisses her ankle softly before scooting forward so he inside of her knee rests on his shoulder and her heel bobs gently against his spine.

He runs his hands up her legs again, gathering her dress as she goes, bunching it up around her hips, still holding eye contact with her. She never thought anyone would look at her the way that he does – the adoration in his eyes breaks her in the best possible way. She trails her fingers over his forehead and across his cheekbone and he turns his head to press a kiss into her hand and breathes out a smile, her cunt clenching in anticipation.

She covers his hand with hers on her bunched-up dress, squeezes his hand gently before she pulls the fabric from his fingers and over her head, closing her eyes as she does. She’s not wearing a bra, so the action leaves her completely naked and her lip trembles with she hears his sharp intake of breath. She has never stood naked in front of someone before, especially not sexually, and it feels silly for her to feel so strongly about this, considering everything they’ve done, but she feels vulnerable in a way she can’t explain. The closets to this she has ever come before was taking her shirt off in Dawson’s room after the whole Eve thing and that had gone so terribly, she hadn’t realized she’s been harboring fear about it until now.

He leans his forehead against her stomach and one of her hands curls around the back of his head automatically. “You’re gorgeous, Joey” he whispers, lips brushing her skin. He presses a kiss to her stomach before he looks up at her from under his long eyelashes. “Absolutely perfect” he grins when she blushes, “so sexy” he adds, mouthing at her hip as she lets out a long breath she hadn’t known she was holding.

He presses big, open mouth, kisses from her stomach to her hip, sucking lightly at her hip bone before kissing down her inner thigh until she is leaning back against the wall to try to push herself towards him, her body searching for him. He settles one hand on her hip and sides the other hand along her inner thigh until his fingertips play in her damp curls and she moans softly. He uses two fingers to gather the wetness he finds there and drags it along her slit, pausing to use his fingers to hold her open to him and press his tongue against her clit. The leg supporting her weight quivers and she lets out a groan. He tightens his hand on her hip, helping to steady her while he pulls back to glance up at her and slides his fingers back to her entrance, sliding two into her right away while her head lulls to the side and her hips thrust against his fingers.

He watches as her eyes slide closed, her head tilting back against the wall and lulling from side to side, her weight slumped back against the wall and leaning into his hold on her hip, her lips slightly parted. He could get lost in her, in how strongly he feels for her, he thinks, grinning wolfishly when his fingers his scrape over the rough patch inside of her and she sighs out his name. He leans forward and pulls her clit between his lips and she groans, grabbing gently at his shoulder. He thrashes at her clit with his tongue and adds a third finger to the ones he has pumping in and out of her. She cries out as she comes.

She can feel that Pacey is the only thing holding her upright as she comes back to herself, breathing still a little erratic. She looks down at him to find his eyes on her. She smiles, almost shy, and he gently lifts her leg from his shoulder and sets it down, his hand still on her hip to keep her balanced. She rests both her hands on his shoulders and sinks down so she is sitting in front of him. He wraps one hand around the back of her head, his fingers tanging in her hair, and tilts her head so their foreheads come together. “I love you, Pace” she breathes out, smiling.

He grins, “you’re alright” he teases, laughing when her balled up fist hits his shoulder.


	5. First Day Home

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter is set during 4x01 (Coming Home) between Joey and Pace talking on the deck of True Love and them going in the cabin to ‘do the thing’.

Pacey leads her below deck, tossing the book he’d been reading on the table as they pass it. He sits down on the bench seating to reach into the box that has the book of fairy tales they’ve been reading together. “I think the bookmark fell out, do you remember which one was next?” he asks, holding up the book, reaching down to grab the playing card that fell from its pages.

“Um,” she thinks, pulling the book from his hand, “The Little Mermaid” she answers, setting the book on the table. He reaches for the book, but she takes his hand instead. He looks at her quizzically, eyebrows raised in confusion, “I really am sorry, Pace” she says, quiet, “I don’t know why…” she trails off, shakes her head a little. He tugs on her hand softly and she moves towards him, leaning against the bench for a moment and then straddling him, her knees digging into the upholstery on either side of his hips. “It’s like being back in Capeside turns my back into just _little Joey Potter_ and I haven’t figured out how to fight that yet,” she bites at her bottom lip. She never should have told Dawson anything about what she and Pacey did-or-didn’t do over the summer. When he said the answer to _that_ question had the potential to kill him, she should have called him out as melodramatic and moved on. But, she wasn’t able to, and that kills her – not only because it means she maybe hasn’t grown up as much as she thought, but also because she knows her inability to do so hurts Pacey. “I’ll figure it out, I will” she says, a promise to both of them.

“I know, Jo” Pacey mummers, more gently than she thinks she deserves, and she breathes out a smile as he reaches up and tucks her hair behind her ears, “and in the meantime, we can always hide from Capeside on the True Love”.

She grins, nodding, glancing around the cabin, “I love you, Pace,” her hand rests over his heart, “and I just, I never want you to doubt how much” she says, quiet.

“I love you too, Jo” he answers, just as quiet, his thumb running along her cheekbone. She surges forward to kiss him, suddenly desperate to be close. His arms slide easily around her as he returns the kiss.

As the kiss continues and deepens, it becomes more desperate and needy and Joey puts one hand on his shoulder for stability as the other slides around the back of his neck as she rocks forward in his lap, trying to get closer. He groans, one of his hands dropping to her hip while his head falls forward to press into the crook of her neck. She does it again – rocking her hips forward with a little more force and moaning softly when their bodies line up perfectly to give them the friction they need. He mumbles her name against her shoulder between sloppy kisses and she hums softly, rocking her hips again, starting an easy rhythm.

His hand on her hip helps her keep the rhythm and his hips move in time with hers. His free hand curls around her back and every so often she starts to lose the ability to hold herself up and she leans back against his hand, and he is always there, holding her upright.

The rhythm starts to falter as she feels herself getting closer and she gasps out his name as she rolls against him harder. He tightens his arm around her back, shortening the motion of her hips but making it more forceful and they both groan softly at the sensation.

A few more rocks of her hips is all it takes before her hands are scrambling at his shoulders, her breath coming in sharp, fast, pants against his ear as she mumbles his name, unfocused and languid when she comes.

The sight of her, the sound of her, is enough to send him over the edge as well. The shared experience is a first for her, and she clings to him, the intimacy overwhelming.

She buries her face in his neck as she comes down and he hold her, the sound of their panting filling the cabin. He chuckles lightly, fingertips tracing her spine, and she joins in breathing out a laugh. She leans back to look at him and he grins at her, brushing her hair back from her face before kissing her gently.

“Come on” he mummers, holding his hand out so Joey can use it for balance as she stands and the leads her over to the hammocks before helping her in to the top one and handing her the book. “Don’t start without me” he jokes and she grins, rolling her eyes. He disappears to change his shorts and then comes back, kissing her cheek before settling into his hammock, smiling when she starts to read.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much to everyone who has commented/kudos/subscribed to this fic along the way and to anyone who might find it in the future and do so - I very much appreciate it!


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